Odd Times and Odd Places
by Lalahona
Summary: Feliciano Vargas encounters a certain god of the dead and his mortal lover in an odd time. Maybe, just maybe, he has the chance to encounter his demigod son in an odd place. [Based on Ellethwen Celtica's Misplaced Shadows and WriterGreenReads' In Which Shadows Are Unexpected]


**A/N**

**This is a story based off of Ellethwen Celtica's Misplaced Shadows and WriterGreenReads' In Which Shadows Are Unexpected here on as well. My own story is just a continuation of theirs' in a different perspective; to fully understand the situation in the last bit, you'll have to read In Which Shadows Are Unexpected as well, but I assure you, it's worth the read.**

**It's like this weird fanfiction one-shot continuation-inspiration thing so I thought I'd hitch on haha. Be sure to check out the both of them :D**

**[Note: edited]**

* * *

Feliciano liked food. And parties. And meeting nice people from his country. And diplomacy, too, because that meant no fighting. And diplomacy with food. And diplomacy with food with people.

This time was no different, it seemed.

Originally Lovino was meant to be there too, but his older brother couldn't be bothered to attend a "stupid dinner with stupid motherfucker politicians, fuck you." Feliciano had pleaded a few times with his older brother, trying to convince him that a simple dinner with some of Italy's officials and their families was nothing bad, and that as Nations it would be nice to sit and talk with them, but Romano was stubborn when he wanted to, saying that if something did happen, it would be a miracle and Feliciano would have to tell him immediately. Deciding that that's the best he would get out of their little brotherly debate, Feliciano now found himself at a nice hotel roof deck restaurant in Venice, having numerous pleasant conversations with various leaders and officials as they dined on delicious pastas, cheeses, and wine. Italian, of course.

It wasn't really as bad as Romano made it sound, really. Feliciano giggled softly to himself, knowing that Romano just had a bit of a hard time talking to strangers who weren't cute girls but instead middle-aged politicians, but Feliciano didn't need to pry, so he didn't.

A polite "Hello, sir" snapped his attention from the light wine that he had been sipping happily on the open balcony of the hotel roof deck. The evening was nice and cool, giving the night a sense of serenity.

"Ciao, bella, ciao!" He greeted back. The young lady who had moved to a comfortable talking position beside him gave a smile in return as Feliciano bent to kiss her fingers in greeting.

"It has been a pleasant evening. May I know your name, signore?" Feliciano couldn't help but smile wider at her eager friendliness. He never enjoyed formal greetings with officials, as they tended to give him no more than a two-second glance and a curt handshake and then moved on to the next official. Honestly, it could be tiring, even for him. She must be a relative of one then, if her aristocratic poise and ladylike manners spoke for anything.

"Ve, well since you so kindly asked, bella, I shall give it." He said, eyes twinkling. "I am Feliciano Vargas, international diplomatic officer of Italy," he said, giving his less suspicious title than 'Personification of Northern Italy.'

As her lips moved to form a smile, her chocolate orbs smiled with her. Very pretty, especially for a young woman like her who seemed not that much older than her mid-teens. Her nice black dress was velvet, and the modest accessories on her fingers and hair brought out her youth.

"A pleasure, signore Vargas," her voice angelic and friendly. "I am Maria di Angelo, and my father is the Italian Ambassador to the U.S. I assume that by your similar titles, you are well-versed with each other?"

They were, actually. Feliciano knew Ambassador di Angelo well enough. Diplomacy often called for multiple contenders, and Feliciano was truthfully very happy to be a part of a team when dealing with such affairs.

The night continued on, and it was the start of a very nice conversation between the two, blooming into a friendship. There on the balcony in the cool wind they made small and joyful talk. Be it about politics, educated topics, or simple hobbies and talents, Feliciano was glad to speak—it was his forte after all –and was extremely pleased to find the lady Maria continuing the conversation with the same energy and interest. It was refreshing, really, to find such a good conversationalist and be able to speak with them in such a casual manner in a more formal setting. When it was time to leave and say polite goodbyes later that evening, both couldn't help but be a bit disappointed that their time with the other was cut short. Promising to write to each other, they parted ways.

And write each other they did, for a pleasant length of time. And it wasn't necessarily a secret either. Romano was heavily pissed for the next few months that he hadn't the chance to talk to this beautiful ragazza that Feli kept on writing to, and Maria had mentioned multiple times that her father told her that Feli might as well court her if they were communicating so well and often. It made Feliciano laugh, oh if only. Maybe in a different time and life he could've courted and married the lively Maria, but not now, not in this one. For now though, the two were content on being good pen pals and company when chance would come, be it at another social gathering or by chance on and outside government grounds when Maria accompanied her father in business.

But like many long distance relationships at the time, it had to end somehow. It ended on a bittersweet note, with Maria saying goodbye before her father would send her to America to study and Feliciano wishing her good wishes.

Actually, it would not be many years later until they would meet again, despite both of their assumptions that their chances to meet again were zero to none. In fact, it was a relatively nice and brief reunion of friends in an odd place.

* * *

It wasn't exactly a good time for this, his subconscious told him. He could feel it, and he was positive that he was, sooner or later, going to be right. A war was brewing and was just around the corner. With all the political unrest and power seizing in Europe lately, it was inevitable. If what he overheard from fellow Nations, it would be a war that would disrupt the world. The Great War was a hell on Earth. The fires, the pain, the anguish, and suffering—It was too much before, and another would be too much now. Much was lost and what more could be lost?

He should've been in a board room discussing international relations and economics with his politicians. Or better yet, in the rural areas that were still recuperating from the Great War. It was a few years ago, but there are still improvements to be made. Yet on this lazy day he found himself strolling around in Croatia.

He wasn't complaining, though. It was a beautiful summer afternoon in the 1930s as the sun was partly hidden behind the clouds. Despite the politics of the world being on the brink of instability, many people did not let it affect their normal lives, choosing to spend time enjoying themselves and looking over the rainbow. New families with their young children, tourists eager to see Italy, and locals on their daily business. Clearly, Diocletian's Palace was busy. The tourist cite was not the most popular place in Italy, (actually, Croatia itself was not as popular as perhaps Venice or Rome) but it was lively. Feliciano Vargas took a moment to bask in the atmosphere of the scene before him. Sometimes, even he had to admit that his land was truly a great beauty, and he was proud of it. The people here, of course, were what made the icing on the cake.

"My friend, Feliciano? Is that you?" A voice of a woman called out to him from nearby. He turned his head to spot whoever had just called him then and there. His mind was still a little in the clouds, so his senses of the real world were a bit blurred, but a kiss on the cheek in greeting in a classic Italian tradition brought him back to see the young woman in front of him.

"Ah…" Like magic, his mind put two and two together to recognize who this person was. "M-maria di Angelo?" At her nod, Feliciano's own face lit up about a few hundred candelas. "It's you, ve~!" Feliciano exclaimed in joy and hugged and kissed his old friend. She, in return, laughed sweetly, hugging him back. Feliciano could sense several passersby smiling at their sweet reunion before going on with their business. Feliciano took a step back to assess her. It had been a while, after all.

She seemed to be doing well. Her long ebony hair was wavy and healthy as it fell over her shoulders. Her brown eyes were still a lovely dark shade, and just like the night they met, glowed like stars. A smile danced on her face, joyful and bright. Dressed in a pretty silk scarf of black and silver that complemented the dainty pearls on her ears, Maria di Angelo radiated of beauty.

"Of all the places we could've possibly met up again, it was not Venice!" Maria exclaimed in joyful disbelief.

Feliciano laughed along. He had forgotten how joyful a company Maria di Angelo could be. "Truly, a great coincidenza, ve~. What are you doing here, signora, all the way in Croatia? I myself am here on business," he rambled on, happy to see her, and telling the half-truth that was familiar to his tongue in the presence of his civilian companions. "I shall assume you are here willingly, and for pleasure?" His curious tone prodded a smile from her beautiful lips.

"Si. I am here for a small vacation, and a bit of sightseeing," she replied, motioning to the leisure atmosphere of the Croatian setting. Feliciano couldn't help but nod in agreement. Croatia was a very nice to just watch and enjoy the scenery. "But of course it wouldn't be complete without my new little ones."

It was at that moment that he noticed the two small heads, a girl and a boy, beside Maria and in her arms, and greets them both, noting their beautiful youthful eyes and their mother's soft hair on their heads. The girl, who stood obediently at her mother's feet, stood in a shy stance, half-hiding herself. On her head was a pretty white bow to match her lovely brown dress. The other little one, in the meantime, was clearly interested in this stranger, and watched Feliciano with wide dark brown eyes as he sat in his mother's embrace. He couldn't help but give a small sigh of happiness in his heart. The innocence of children that showed in their small figures and happy eyes was such a beautiful thing.

"This is Bianca and Nico, Feli. They are my little bambina and bambino." She told him, patting both of their heads.

"Very fine names for a bel ragazzo and bella ragazza," he tells Maria, looking back and forth between her and her children, proud eyes filled with happiness for her.

He was about to express his congratulations before he stopped himself. Though he loved any child that belonged to his land, he could already tell with his extra senses as a Nation that something was a little bit off. It wasn't a dangerous feeling like an alarm, no, everything seemed to be safe; there was just something else. He wasn't completely sure if Maria felt it too, or if she knew the source of this oddness herself, but before he could put his finger on it, a tall pale man walks up beside Maria in eloquent fashion. Maria smiles at him before turning back to Feliciano.

"Ah, of course. Feliciano, my husband. Amore, my friend Feliciano from Venice," she said, motioning her hand between the two men.

The escort looks up and locks eyes with Feliciano. Despite the disguise, Feliciano recognized, Pluto, god of death and riches, quickly hiding his surprise behind a polite cough. The deity does the same in hiding his astonishment, raising an eyebrow in a mixture of curiosity and shock.

Ah, so this is what Feliciano had sensed. It calmed him, surprisingly. Despite being in front of a literal god in a crowd of mortals, where anything can easily go wrong, he felt no harm from this divinity who did not seem to be harmful. He has barely another second of calm before he presses his lips together and frowns internally. If he was Maria's husband, then that meant that the two little ones were-

Italy is snapped back into the moment as the god of the underworld extended a hand for a polite handshake, which Feliciano returns. He was just starting to think about what to say without angering the immortal deity before little Nico suddenly gets squirmish and Bianca tugs at her mother's skirt, pointing to a nearby lemonade stand.

"Excuse me, mi amore." Maria tells Pluto, looking into his eyes with that all too familiar look that Feliciano has seen in many couples in all his years of living. Then turning to him she says, "I will get you a drink, too, Feliciano." Maria excuses herself to get drinks for the adults and the children, and Pluto and Italy are left to converse between themselves.

Although there was a slight tension felt between the two immortal beings at the moment, neither seemed exactly too keen to break the silence and begin a conversation that could go who knows how many ways. And often times the tendency was very bad. Despite this, it wasn't necessarily a big deal seeing a god casually strolling around mortals; and he had encountered Pluto several times in the past as well. It was a strange history, actually. They were not exactly ever directly involved with each other, but it didn't mean that neither knew the other.

"It has been a while, signore Pluto," he said finally, making small talk as politely as he can. You never knew when a god would smite you out of boredom or anger issues. The god of death didn't seem to be that broody at the moment though, even giving a chuckle in return at the formality.

"It has, mister Veneziano." He replied. "Last I saw you, the great Roman Empire was bouncing you on his knee." Feliciano gave a small giggle at that and a seesaw hand motion.

"Ah, yes, my grandfather Roma was quite a character before, signore Pluto," he said smiling.

Pluto returned the smile, (which in itself was rare, Feliciano noted) and said, "Yes I do remember. As of now, though, I am my Greek form, Hades," he pointed out. Feliciano merely nodded with a quick 'ah I see.' Why Hades would be promenading in Italy, the capital of which being Rome, though, was beyond him.

"Do you go by Feliciano now, as Maria had introduced you by?" Hades continued.

"My human name, of course. Although I'm surprised you yourself, signore Plu…Hades have not used one. With Maria especially." Feliciano spoke in a softer tone at that last bit, should anyone in the open courtyard be listening. Expression changing from bubbly to expectant of an answer, he dropped his ever moving hands slightly, waiting for an answer.

Hades' expression was not exactly readable. "It has been rare, yes, that I ever take a mortal wife, much less reveal my true identity and name. But Maria di Angelo...she knows, and she has been willing to live with that. With me. Even willing to bear two children of our own," he said. At that, the both of them look over his shoulder to see Maria fussing over the two children, coaxing one stubborn one to take a sip while the other had already seemingly gulped down her own cup.

Feliciano was actually satisfied with that answer, surprising even himself. Immortals were not meant to become a part of the life of a mortal. He knew, he had gone through that himself many, many painful times. Maybe he wasn't as old as the other in front of him, but even a few thousand years meant the same merit. The curse of immortality only lead to an ill-fated love that would last forever like a ghost, like a spirit that remained alive in death.

But he could see himself that this man, this god in front of him was not ready to let fate take its toll on his life with this mortal woman. It was the kind of passionate love that only a pair who returned each other's love had. It made Feliciano give a little smile in appreciation that Hades and Maria were truly willing to go against fate to attempt a legacy of love, for however long they could.

As if the word legacy was magic, Feliciano felt a small bump and heard an 'oomph' sound at his knee, finding a little girl holding a little cup of lemonade that sloshed around as she looked up at him with her father's dark eyes

"Mama said that this is for you," she told Feliciano, holding it out to him. She could not have been older than 8, barely a child, still unknown to her the power that she held as a half-god.

Feliciano smiled warmly and took the cup from her hands. He took a sip and uttered a small "Grazie, signorita," before she turned to give her father some juice too, presumably not recognizing him. Hades took it graciously, before she turned back and bolted off.

"I'm ever so happy to see you both get along."

The sound of Maria's voice drew everyone's attention, just like every other aspect of her. The way she walked, the way she smiled, the way she balanced three cups of lemonade in one hand and in the other a boy who couldn't have been older than 6; she had an aura of elegance and grace, and unspeakable beauty. Bianca had apparently run to her mother, then, Feliciano noticed, as he spotted her beside her mother again, watching carefully with the virtuous eyes of a child. He brought the cup to his lips and smiled as the little girl seemed satisfied that he had drank the juice she had given him. Feliciano's heart smiled as Maria went up to her husband to kiss him in greeting. With a single glance it was ever so clear why one immortal soul would even risk a chance of love with this mortal, she who was dainty yet firm; a rarity among humanity, and fit to be wife of a god.

The three adults stand under the shade of a tree, simply chatting and reminiscing as the children dodge and play around their mother's skirt before the sun begins its feat of descent and Feliciano has to say his goodbyes.

With a promise of hoping to see the family again, he turns around to begin his depart. His brother would definitely have a word with him if he arrived home later than expected. As he walks down the road, taking in the atmosphere of Croatia in the sunset, he can't help but turn his head back to sneak one last glance at the group. He catches the eye of Hades, who puts a finger to his lip and a pointed glance at Feliciano. Ssshh, it said. This is our secret.

And with a polite tilt of the head, Feliciano turns around and continues walking. He was sure that he would never encounter them again. And he would've been right, if not for an odd time.

* * *

Feliciano did not exactly anticipate an encounter with the legacy of Hades soon afterwards. Granted, his next meeting by chance with the former was no less than just under a hundred years later, but when you're immortal, "soon" is a word left to interpretation.

Apparently upon noticing the absence of a certain Chinese Nation from the world conference after lunch break that day, the room had turned into a "Can I leave now, too?" debate, and the meeting was called off early, seeing as nothing would have been accomplished either way, much to the silent opposition and fury of Germany. Italy had attempted to calm down his dear friend Germany with a happy bubbly grin and words of comfort and encouragement (or at least Italy assumed they were words of courage and encouragement. Fratello did often say that his endless high-energy babbling would sometimes cause more stress than calm, but it was the thought that counted, was it not?) And with big brother France butting in to offer the G8…ahem, _friends_ meet up later at a nearby French restaurant later for dinner, Italy decided to spend a little time on his own first, idly strolling the American landscape.

Despite being known for his notorious loudness, (which Italy could relate to, somewhat) America's land was indeed very nice when you took the moment to look around. Sure, it wasn't Venice where the architecture was grand and the canals were amorous and the beauty was manifested in itself, but Italy can admit the open air and shouts of the New York children as they played in the parks was a beauty, too. As a self-proclaimed well-versed traveler, Veneziano Italy knew to appreciate foreign setting when he saw them.

The foreign setting in front of him currently was a little different from what he expected to find in Manhattan, though.

He was just simply walking down an empty minor street when a roar of a mythical beast and a shout from the other end, the sounds coming closer. Ducking behind a conveniently parked car, he peeked out to spy a bit to spy, clutching a summoned sword in hand. But even before he peeked his head out to watch, as soon as he sensed that aura, Italy knew he couldn't mistake it for anything else. Squinting, he took a closer look at the young demigod. The Italian features rather distinct, the hair of midnight black and dark hazel eyes all too familiar, and aura of a demigod child of Hades was all that was needed to give away the fact that this was Nico di Angelo, son of the mortal Maria di Angelo and Hades, god of death. Why on Earth a toddler from the '30s was alive as an adolescent child in the modern day and why he had such a disastrous wardrobe that betrayed his fashionable Italian heritage was beyond him, but that was currently not important.

What was important now was that Nico di Angelo was being attacked by a devilish beast whose aura, he sensed, was Eastern—although from whose Parthenon Italy couldn't distinguish whose exactly—the former of which seemed to be losing badly. But he knew to keep his distance for a little longer. As much as he wanted to, suddenly jumping up from behind a car, slicing the monster to bits for attempting to harm a hair on the boy's head, and having to explain why and how he knew said boy was a little too sudden. Before he could even contemplate how to help, the demonic little thing charged at Nico, visibly pained and helpless on the ground.

Italy was just about to move when a shout and the slicing of a bronze sword made him stop in his tracks.

China was here too?

He smirked slightly to himself. At least he knew the whereabouts of China now, deciding to keep that information confidential until he can confront his fellow Nation about his absence during the oh so important and utterly boring conference he should have been in about two hours ago. Deciding to eavesdrop a bit more, he was very much surprised to figure out that China and Nico knew each other, and had apparently encountered the other before, if the closeness of their voices in their tiny squabble symbolized anything. He couldn't help but smile at that from behind his hiding spot. It was a wonder to him exactly why where and how they had met, but the brotherly—almost parental—nature of China that he very rarely showed publicly was enough to indicate that Nico was in good hands.

And in very worried and experienced ones too, as the Chinese Nation explained the intensity of the monster's ability to a bitten and injured Nico who was huddled in his arms like a young toddler. Italy couldn't help but gasp in shock himself, for the _yaoguai_, as China had called it, really was such a demonic monster that its bite would fade away the soul of the poor one who fell victim to its bite.

Fortunately, China seemed to know the healing process for it, though.

As China started walking to wherever Nico's supposed camp was (and this Will boy, who seemed to be very cute from Nico's descriptions), their voices fading away slowly in the distance, Italy found himself rising from his place of hiding to fathom what he had just heard and witnessed for a bit. Evidently and inevitably, Italy would be questioning answers and answering questions with China very soon. Maybe not immediately, no, but Italy would definitely have to find time very soon in order to confront his fellow Nation about it, try to clear out a few things, maybe even be informed of new ones.

As he started to walk back the way he came, the atmosphere of the New York setting now a buzz in the background, he couldn't help but think to himself, looking down at the ground and his feet as he walk.

"Dios mio, signore Hades," he said in his mind, not particularly knowing or caring how much of his words hits the ears of the other, "We just keep encountering each other's presence in such odd places and odd times. What would Maria say…"

The ground didn't answer or give as much as a rumble as Italy returned to his hotel room to prepare for a dinner out with friends.

* * *

**A/N**

**I really, really, really should do more research before I finish a story huhu T_T. I was already done with the part where Feliciano and Hades talk in Diocletian's Palace only to find out that Hades had stopped seeing Maria's kids when Nico was about 3 years old, and when he visits the Palace he was actually 6! Argh, I thought that the dates were the opposite way around, so now it does not correlate with the Rick Riordan universe timeline hnnngghhhh *cries in the corner***

**Although now that I think of it, I'm just going to go out on a limb here and say that Hades had disguised himself. So while Feliciano and Maria recognize him, Bianca and Nico do not, as they were too young to remember his face properly. Bianca senses the familiarity, but as a child does not suspect anything bad, while Nico is completely clueless on who the two strangers are so there HAHAHAHA I'M A GENIUS :D**

**In all seriousness, though, this took a while to finish, and an even longer time to find the inspiration for it in the first place. ****About two years to be exact oof**

**Like I said before, the credit for the inspiration goes to Ellethwen Celtica and WriterGreenReads, whose AU and storyline I continued in this story in a different perspective. I hope they like this; I really adore their works!**

**(and if any of you lovelies would like to progress this story in your own one-shot continuation, I'm just saying, it's up for grabs hehe)**

**Thanks for reading~**


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